ISOLATION ROOM LANGLEY, MAY 1981
Botendaddy is handcuffed, seated behind a table. The creepy CIA agent is on the other side of the table. A single bare bulb 💡 burns overhead in the drab concrete block room.
”You’ve done a great job for the Navy P.O. Botendaddy. You seem to always have the info on the shit-covered red commies. Now why would that be? How could some meaningless douchebag man-cunt Old-Lady fucker like you be so omniscient?”
Roaks Czech Cigaretu and gives Botendaddy a puff.
”If I may ask, what the fuck is this shit? It was supposed to be a debrief. I have to report to the Army, I’m separating from the Navy tomorrow and I have orders for Army Basic at Ft. Knox, then I have to pick a National Guards unit.”
Creepy CIA Stooge stands up.
”Should I use your real name, Evgenyi Alexandreiovich Botenscziewski? Aka Botendaddy? You shitty Communist pinko scumbag infiltrator Spy 🕵️♂️. We have the goods on you, fucktard. You wanted to put a giant turgid cock into Uncle Sam’s quivering bowel. Here’s the deal. You’re a double agent now. Only two people know about this. Me and George Bush , President Reagan’s VP. He’s still an operative. You and I will meet once a year at a restaurant here in Virginia called ‘The Crazy 😜 Dago 🇮🇹’. “
Botendaddy shifted in his chair, but stared right at the agent.
”This is insane. Do I even look 🇷🇺 Russian to you? And who insults Italians like that? You could get whacked.”
”Stand up and turn around.”
Botendaddy stands up and the agent lowers his pants 👖 and man-panties. Using a purple fluorescent flashlight 🔦 he inspects Botendaddy’s anus.
”It’s all I can do right now not to drill you in your glistening anus with my massive, gnarled love-tool. Ah the taste of it! But the Soviet anus-tattoo is not there. So you are not the one we are seeking. Damn.”
Agent shudders with repressed orgiastic ecstasy. Don’t mention this to anyone.
”So we still meeting next year Agent Q?”
”June 18, 1982, The Crazy Dago.”
TO BE CONTINUED